A Wartime Christmas (14 page)

Kay hadn’t realized that Vi had still held fast to the hope that she might move back to her old house again. It was a hope that must have kept her going since the night it was bombed. Kay
knew her friend was just beginning to accept reality and it was a real shock. ‘Let’s sit in the yard and have a chat,’ Kay suggested softly.

Kay put on the kettle. She gazed through the kitchen window to where Vi was making herself comfortable on the wall. A few bricks were missing and Alan hadn’t replaced them. The space was
just enough to seat two bottoms. As the whistle blew on the kettle, Kay decided this was the moment to convince Vi of her latest plan.

‘There’s not much colour in the tea,’ Kay apologized as she joined Vi.

‘It’s wet and warm, love. Ta. Now what is it you want to talk about? I ain’t gonna change me mind, no matter what you say. It’s time for me to move on.’

Kay paused before she spoke. She wanted to get this just right. ‘What would you say to moving downstairs, Vi?’

‘What?’

‘Your put-u-up will store behind the couch in the day. Alan will bring down the wardrobe. It’ll go nicely by the window. And with a bit of manoeuvring, we can squeeze in a chest of
drawers.’

After a few seconds, Vi made a face. ‘Does Alan know about this?’

‘Yes, course.’

‘Kay, ducks, it’s acceptable for families to make do and mend,’ Vi argued. ‘But I ain’t family.’

‘You’re as good as.’

‘No,’ said Vi emphatically. ‘I’ll only be in the way.’

Arriving at this stalemate, the conversation lapsed. Around them the noises from the busy river filled the air: the hoots and toots and clanking from the cranes, the screech of the gulls and the
strong scents that blew in with the breeze.

Kay thought of her first husband, Norman. What path would her life have taken if Norman hadn’t gone to work that day and been knocked down by a bus? Would she still be here, sitting on a
wall in the September sunshine with her friends and neighbours close by, and Vi who was now part of her family.

‘Vi, please say you’ll stay.’

‘Well, if you twist me arm,’ agreed Vi with a chuckle.

Kay clapped her hands. ‘Let’s go inside and plan it all out.’ She jumped to her feet, worried her friend might change her mind.

But Vi grabbed her wrist. ‘Give me a minute, love, there was something I had to ask you and it skipped me mind till now.’

‘What’s that?’

‘A bloke called round this morning. Bit shifty he looked, said he was a scrap dealer and on his way through the Cut, clocked Alan’s bits and pieces piled by the wall. He wanted to
know if he could have them. I told him to buzz off; we don’t want no hawkers or pedlars round here.’

Kay sat down on the wall again, immediately alarmed. ‘What was he wearing?’

‘Rough sort, he was.’

‘Oh. That doesn’t sound like him.’

‘Who?’

‘Do you remember the day of the Suttons’ funeral? Well, the missing relative of the Suttons’ turned up after the service. He told Alan he was Madge’s brother. As he
seemed upset, Alan took him to the Pig and Whistle and bought him a drink. I caught sight of them both from the bus. Alan, that is, and the man.’

‘What did he want?’

‘Alan said he was on the scrounge and only after any money that Madge might have left.’

‘The cheapskate!’ Vi exclaimed. ‘He didn’t even turn up for the funeral.’

‘Today, I thought I saw him at the market.’

‘What makes you think that?’

‘He was staring at us.’ Kay paused, frowning. ‘And he was holding a newspaper. Like the man at the pub.’

‘Lots of blokes have newspapers,’ Vi said dismissively. ‘Anyway, I’m certain Alan would have sent him off with a flea in his ear.’

Kay smiled. ‘Yes, Alan did.’

‘Forget him, love,’ Vi reasoned sensibly. ‘Reckon we’re all a bit jittery these days what with the government telling us to watch out for spies and the like.’

Kay smiled. Vi was right. As Alan would warn her, her imagination was working overtime!

Two weeks later on a cold October evening, Kay was hurrying home from the factory, her thoughts on the strange man who had appeared so mysteriously in her life. She kept on
thinking about him, who he was, who he could be. And she was so occupied with her thoughts that when a tall figure stepped into her path, she almost let out a scream.

‘Alan!’ she gasped. ‘You gave me a fright!’

‘Sorry, love.’

‘What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be at work.’

He nodded, sliding an arm around her waist. ‘I left early. Thought we might walk down to the river.’

‘Is something wrong?’ she asked as they began walking together, trying to compose herself again.

‘Nothing unexpected.’

‘Are Alfie and Vi all right?’

‘Yes, course,’ he said with a shrug. ‘Come on, let’s enjoy a stroll.’

Kay guessed something upsetting must have happened at work. This morning it had been a happy and cheerful Alan who had kissed her goodbye. But tonight he seemed very preoccupied.

After a brisk walk they reached Island Gardens. The entrance to the foot tunnel leading under the river to Greenwich was busy with people making their way home to the south bank. Alan led her to
the fence that divided the gardens from the river; this was their special place where it had been their practice to share their troubles or talk about something exciting. It was on this spot that
she had told Alan she was expecting Alfie. And where, a few days later, Alan had asked her to marry him. This was where they brought Alfie, to the sparkling river and historic sights on the
southern bank beyond. If the day was fine, it was possible to see the Old Royal Observatory peeping from Greenwich Park, dwarfed by the huge barrage balloons floating above, and the famous Naval
College, framed by its green blush of trees. As twilight approached, the white glint of the Queen’s House slowly faded as did the stirring sight of the tall, workhorse chimneys of
London’s great power station.

‘No other way to break the news, Kay, but I’ve had my call-up.’

‘Oh, Alan, no!’ she gasped, ‘not already.’ Tears sprang to her eyes and he pulled her close.

‘I’m so sorry, love.’

They sat on the bench in the dusk, both shivering with the cold. Like her, he wore his winter coat, but tonight the cold seemed to be inside them.

‘In a way, it’s a relief,’ he said. ‘I can make plans for the future now.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘If the raids start again, I want you to go to your brother’s.’

‘Oh, Alan, how could I, without you?’

‘It wouldn’t be for ever. And we do have Alfie to consider.’

Kay knew he was right but she sunk her head dispiritedly. ‘I’d give it some thought,’ she murmured, ‘but only if it was really necessary.’

‘That’s my girl. I know you’ll do what’s best when the time comes.’

Kay folded her fingers tightly over his. ‘When do you leave?’

‘The day after tomorrow.’

Kay gave another gasp. ‘So soon?’

‘The army are sending me on recruitment training. Somewhere in Barnet.’

‘Barnet?’

‘It’s not that far as the crow flies.’

‘Write immediately, won’t you?’

‘Yes, but I don’t suppose I’ll be able to say much. Not with the censors reading our letters.’

‘I don’t care about the censors. I care about you.’

He lifted her chin. ‘Service pay isn’t very good. So I’ll leave twenty pounds to pay the bills.’

‘Alan, where did you get twenty pounds from?’

‘I put the money by for a rainy day.’

Kay stared into her husband’s dark gaze and felt, for the first time, a little lost. ‘How did you manage that?’ she asked. ‘There’s things I’m finding out
about you, Alan Lewis, that still surprise me. I’m beginning to wonder who I’m married to.’

‘It’s me, the man who adores you,’ he assured her, placing her hand on his heart. ‘This is what matters, the love I have inside for you. A love that will never
die.’ He gazed at her intently, squeezing her fingers tightly as he bent to kiss her, stroking the side of her face and murmuring words of love against her ear. When they caught their breath,
she buried her face in his shoulder, inhaling the chill of winter on his coat, an unwanted reminder of the long, lonely days and nights that would lie ahead.

‘Dear Doris and Len,’ Alan began to write as he sat at the kitchen table in the early hours of the next morning. He was no letter writer and had always struggled
with the reports he had to make at the post. But he had a plan in mind now and was determined to set out his thoughts as plainly as he could make them.

Alan stared at the slightly crumpled sheets of lined paper in front of him. He’d stuffed the papers into his breast pocket together with a couple of envelopes when he’d borrowed them
from the post supplies. At the interview with the SOE coordinator this morning, he had been given proof that Kay and Alfie would be taken care of in the event of his death.

Then, when he’d arrived home, he’d found a minute to talk to Vi alone. She promised to keep safe the things he’d given her. Vi was a trooper. She’d asked no questions and
for this he would be eternally grateful. Tomorrow, he’d pack. Before leaving early the following morning, he intended to make the most of his time with his family. He wanted his boy to
remember him. And God alone knew there had been little enough time already.

Now, it was up to him to put things one hundred per cent right with Len. His brother-in-law was an honourable man and loved his sister. But it would be tough for Kay, even if she was well
provided for. She would need her family’s support. He had to get Len on side, should the unthinkable happen.

Alan got up and stood in the passage. There were no sounds from the house; all was quiet. After satisfying himself both Kay and Vi were asleep he returned to the kitchen table and sat down to
write. But the pen wasn’t easy to control; his fingers were as nervous as his thoughts. He was wondering how many other men wrote letters of this calibre. But, as he knew that the odds were
against him – were against any conscripted man who was involved with special army operations – he had very little alternative. Added to his unease was his fear of perishing without
being able to tell Kay the whole truth – his truth – and not the way others saw it.

He started again.

Alan took the second paper, stared at its emptiness and knew he could never write all the things he wanted to say to his wife. Things she would discover. Be told. What was he to say to her, in
words that wouldn’t seem shallow, empty and false? Should circumstances reveal him to be not the person she knew and trusted, he wanted her to know that his love was genuine and would last
for all time.

It was several hours later that Alan slipped into bed beside Kay. She didn’t wake and feeling her warmth and familiarity, he committed to memory this last night beside her. A memory he
would draw strength from in the testing times to come.

Kay was trying to nail the broken fence back into place one bitterly cold morning in October when Babs came out of the house. She looked strained, pulling her coat round her
shoulders to hurry up to Kay, her words coming out in a tumble.

‘It’s arrived,’ Babs whispered, her breath curling up in the air. ‘Eddie’s call-up.’

Kay looked at her friend sympathetically. ‘Oh, Babs, I’m sorry.’

‘We knew it had to be. But the kids—’ She stopped, biting down on her lip.

‘When’s he got to go?’

‘Monday. We’ve all day today and tomorrow, Sunday.’

Kay placed the hammer she was trying to wield down on the frosty earth. She leaned forward and took her friend’s shoulders. ‘I know how you feel, but bear up. We’re both going
to manage somehow.’

‘I hope so. What are you trying to do?’

‘Mend this bit of fence. It’s fallen down again.’

‘I’ll get Eddie to give you a hand.’

‘No,’ said Kay quickly. ‘Just tell him to pop in and say goodbye.’

Babs nodded. She had tears in her eyes but held them back as, without saying more, she turned to go back indoors.

The next day Eddie visited and it was a sad moment as he hugged Kay. ‘Look after her and the kids for me, Kay.’

‘I will.’

‘You ain’t made a very good job of that fence,’ he joked. ‘I’ll put a nail in it before I go.’

They both laughed as they knew the fence would still be as it was throughout the rest of the winter. Kay saw he was fighting back his emotion and when he’d said farewell to Vi and Alfie,
she called out of the front door after him to say that it wasn’t goodbye, just
au revoir.

‘You bet ya!’ he yelled from the street and gave her a wink.